Broken
by Miscellaneous Sonata
Summary: Well, this is basically a very short ficlet again. Yes, I'm obsessed with Phantom of the Opera as you can see. This is just the part where Raoul and Christine are singing All I ask of you from Erik's point of view.


Author's Note: I do not own Phantom of the Opera or anything pertaining to it or its characters. If I did, I would be very rich and wouldn't be writing crap for a fan fiction site. Yup, there ya go.

Erik was still laughing maniacally from the darkness of the stage beams at Carlotta and her fall. Oh, the irony of it all. Of course he was pure genius for thinking of a frog to suit her. He leaped from beam to beam lightly as a dark cat and let his laughter echo throughout the stage, frightening the little ballet rats out of their minds. This only made him all the more giddy… like a school boy almost, a school boy guilty of crime.

His thoughts danced about as he looked to follow Christine who had run off before. The chandelier must have shocked and scared her considerably. Of course he hadn't really meant to frighten her. It was all for effect really and Carlotta had now been scared out of actually singing lead roles. Now to deal with Piangi and the other idiots who populated the stage.

Still smiling he made his way from out of the back stage and outside. Cold… He wrapped his cape about him before going out much further. Still no sign of Christine. Where was she? She was due on stage right after the horrid ballet the little girls were substituting. He cringed at the thought of having to be an audience member at this point of the program. But Christine was well worth the horrible dancing of the imps.

Lurking in the shadows, he stepped over the crunching snow and followed where he thought she might have gone to. Then he heard voices on the roof- top…

Curiously, he followed the voices to a great statue. There he climbed the statue up to the roof-top and listened to the voices, a male and a female. One of them he recognized right away and the other… it took him a few moments but he recognized it and groaned in disdain. Yet he remained hidden within the shadows, clinging to the shadow of the angel. What was to happen now? He could barely breath he was so cautious of his movements for fear they might hear him and he would never discover what was going on. Or the meaning of this meeting..

Yes, it was the Vicomte, the little French lover, the insolent boy which Christine vowed she would never see again. Yet here they were, the both of them, on the roof-top of the Opera House in the dead of night speaking to each other and singing as well. It sickened him. Of course he would love her as her voice was enough to win any one over but her looks were only an added bonus.

But why should she love him? This runt of a man, this heathen who thought he could whisk her away, and he was rich. That was probably the only reason Christine allowed him to speak to her, the money and the fact that he was quite handsome at that. Handsome and rich, something every woman wanted. Why not she? Oh, why not she…

He had to force himself to keep from wailing aloud. The darkness descended still further as the snow clouds covered the stars from view. He felt his heart being crushed within him, the pieces scattering about the snow with the rose he had planned to bring Christine. Oh heavens… oh GOD, oh angels, did anyone hear him? Did Christine even hear him? Did he hear himself..

Yet his wail still stayed inside and he hid behind the angel statue still further, his chest feeling as if it were about to crush within. He touched his mask in agony as he watched the two romance, Raoul's lips touching her hair, her eyes watching his caress and feeling his skin. This was a joy he would never have and it killed him. Somehow he would not let this happen to him. No, not now, not ever. He would make Christine his own, his own! Only he would be able to touch her and not this rich, little patron who seemed to have weasled his way in between him and his ultimate goal.

Growling lightly, he watched the two leave, crossing the snow gaily and singing to each other still. The clouds were now completely dark and he had lost all sight of the stars and their small light to his mournful face. Now Christine had gone inside and Raoul followed her of course, his gaze never breaking hers. He waited for them to leave and then he wailed from the noise of his breaking heart and dropped the rose in his hand.

Mournfully, he climbed up another statue and faced to the streets of Paris, staring angrily as he climbed atop it. His fierce gaze watched the stone silent buildings below him and he wailed again. This time he made out terrible, angry words.

"You will curse the day you did not do all that the phantom asked of you!"

THE END


End file.
